Final Fantasy 13- Chicago
by legionfulminante
Summary: [Alternate Universe] What I've done for all you lovely FF13 fans is assigned each main character to a neighborhood in Chicago that they'd probably end up living in, based on their personalities.
1. Chapter 1

It was a clear night in Chicago's Hyde Park neighborhood. A few pieces of stray paper and plastic cups cluttered along the street, but other than that, it was quiet. Then, tones of jazz music began to drift through the air, from a little neighborhood place called Katzroy's.

Sazh had done well fro himself for the past few years.

After retiring from the Air Force, he'd settled down and bought a nice house for himself and his family. He didn't just want to coast through his retirement though, and decided to buy a small piece of property in the neighborhood, and after much thought he'd decided to turn it into a jazz café, bearing his name. After all, jazz was always one of Sazh's hidden passions. It had since become beloved by the artists, college students, and families that inhabited the area. The café's most popular sell was little bread buns, made possible by Sazh's loved wife Sarahi. It had been said that once one tasted their first bite of one of these bread buns, your soul belonged to the Katzroys.

On this particular night, a Southern gentleman found his way into Katzroy's, and this happened to be one of the nights that Sazh himself worked the counter. "What can I get you?" he asked his guest.

The man thought. "Surprise me," he finally said.

Sazh decided to make the house special- an iced tea, cherry-flavored, and with just a hint of vodka. He called it Cold Blood.

"You're not from 'round here, are you?" asked Sazh.

The man shook his head. "From Atlanta. On my way to the Mall of America. Just stoppin' through, though I might stop by sometime if I enjoy myself enough."

Sazh gave him a friendly nod. "Welcome to Chicago…"

"Rygdea."

"Rygdea," he repeated, handing over the finished drink.

"Whoo, that's an interesting taste." Rygdea winced a bit before drinking more. "So, you're the owner of this place, right?" He gestured to the oil painting of Sazh and his wife on the wall. (Okay, that was probably not necessary, but

Sazh believed one always had to look authentic to be authentic.) "How is it? It pay well?"

"Well enough," replied Sazh. "It's enough to put my son into private school, and that doesn't come cheap 'round here."

"Seems like a good enough spot." Rygdea looked around.

"I meet a lot of interesting people here, yeah. The high school kids come in weekday afternoons sometimes. Then the college kids come in and study. I get a lot of artsy types here too- this neighborhood is known for being artistic, so they come and go, as artists do. It's only every now and then that I get a normal, quiet family to sit down in one of the booths." Sazh smiled. "And then there's the musicians. A lot of them come through here. Some of them even perform."

Rygdea enjoyed himself that night, and decided to come back again when he had the time.

The first time he returned, he'd moved from Atlanta to New Orleans to become a gator hunter, and this time around he met Sarahi and Sazh's son, Dajh. He also tried the bread buns, and with that he was sold. He'd have to come back a lot more.

Meanwhile, Sazh had found a young group of jazz musicians that lived in his complex, and had started to play with them. They practiced well into the night, which his wife did not approve of, but she didn't raise a huge fuss about it. Sazh had always loved both the saxophone and the drums, long before the Air Force, long before he'd met her.

"Daddy, daddy!" Dajh said happily as he entered his home. "Guess what?"

"What?" Sazh encouraged him.

"Teacher is having us learn about music and instruments in class!" Dajh replied. "We all had to pick one, and we'll learn how to play!"

"Guess which one he picked," added Sarahi, holding an instrument case.

"Let me show him!" Dajh unlatched the case, revealing a child's saxophone. "Now I get to play just like you, daddy!"

Sazh laughed gleefully. "You sure do," he said. "You know, son, if you're gonna be a jazz musician, you know what you need, right?"

"No, what?"

"A nickname!" Sazh laughed again. "All the greats have had nicknames. Everyone in my band has a nickname. There's 'Nylon Strings' Dean, 'Sweet Low Notes' Sam, and Clarinet Cass. Oh, and your old man is Jazz Man Sazh."

He thought. "Well, I've seen you groovin' at the café sometimes, so why don't we call you Dancin' Dajh?"

"Yay!" Dajh clapped his hands. "Daddy, does Mama get a nickname too?"

Sazh looked like he was going to think of one, but Sarahi objected, "No."

Upon Rygdea's next visit, Dajh had learned a simple melody on his sax, and Sazh convinced the boys in the band to let him come up on stage and play with them. Jazz was always more fun when it was spontaneous. Rygdea sat at one of the small coffee tables, watching. While he watched the performance he decided, if he wasn't too old already, that he'd find himself a wife in New Orleans, and have a son that he could bring along to his work, just like his good buddy Sazh.

* * *

[A/N]: Whoo, finally typed this up!  
Sazh was the easiest character to assign to a neighborhood, so he's up first. Hyde Park is an interesting neighborhood; although it has a moderate crime rate, it's also one of the most popular neighborhoods in Chicago. There really are small jazz cafes in the area, by the way, and although it isn't mentioned directly, the complex that Sazh and his family live in is called Cornell Square; I had a relative who lived there, and it's amazing.  
For those who might be wondering why Sazh's wife is… not dead in this, I don't believe a single dad could open a café all on his own, especially if he's retired. He needs his wife there to be his rock, theoretically.  
The names of Sazh's bandmates come from Supernatural, if you didn't guess that already. (Bonus points if you did!)  
By the way, I'm not old enough to drink yet, so if someone wants to try to make the drink in the story, I only ask that you leave me a review telling me how it turned out. (P.S.: The written version also calls for watermelon juice, but I took that out because it turns out that watermelon juice and tea are dreadful together.)


	2. Chapter 2

Vanille was a woman of simple tastes, and she didn't need a lot to be happy.

She shared her artist's loft in the creative neighborhood of Pilsen with three other girls, although it was only meant for one. As a full-time student at the American Academy of Art and a sales associate at Forever 21, she had a full plate most of the week. Even so, she enjoyed every part of her life, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

This was Vanille's first semester in school, and she loved all of her classes except Seminar; actually, no one liked Seminar because it was tedious and boring, As a matter of fact, Vanille and her friends were convinced that even the professors who taught Seminar hated teaching it, and that's why they were so dreadful most of the time.

Vanille doodled in her sketchbook during class. Today, she was working on a drawing of a fairy flying amongst the clouds. Vanille's drawings were almost always either mythical or plant-based in some way; her drawing of a speeding unicorn was pretty popular amongst the freshman student body. By the time class was over, she'd almost finished; she just needed to touch up some details on the stars and clouds, which she'd get around to when she got home.

Since she didn't have to work tonight, when school was over Vanille walked to Panera with her friends/roommates Dani, Arianna, and Gabriela. Out of the four, Gabriela was the only one who was a Chicago native; Dani came from Fresno, and Arianna was an Italian immigrant. And then there was Vanille, arriving in the Second City from a small Australian town.

"Somehow, today's Seminar seemed like it was going to go on until I turned thirty," lamented Vanille. "I tried to pay attention, but… ugh! Professor Nabaat is just dreary."

"I'll say," agreed Dani. "I tried to get a seat by you, Vanille, but by the time I got to class, this guy had taken my usual seat. Now I know to get there early."

"I'm sure she's not as bad as Professor Raines," Arianna said. "Sometimes he acts like he has multiple personalities. It's scary."

Vanille laughed, stirring her soup. "Well, let's look on the bright side, girls," she said, gently blowing the contents of her spoon. "The semester will be over really soon, and we'll have all new classes. All better classes, too, I hope!"

The other three girls nodded in agreement.

"I have more good news," added Arianna. "My dad knows a guy who owns an art studio in Elmwood Park, and he says we're welcome to have an art show there if we have enough pieces that we want to sell."

"Oh, that's convenient," Gabriela said. "My mom knows a guy who has contacts with this really good catering company, so we can call them to have refreshments at the show."

"This is so exciting!" Vanille squeaked, clapping. "I can't wait!"

Vanille finished her drawing of the fairy, and rounded up five pictures of flowers, one of a grassy plain, one of a tree, and four more of mythical creatures, including the popular unicorn one. She had eleven pictures to sell. For the next two weeks, she put in overtime at work so she could afford the nicest quality frames available for her art. By the time the show rolled around, she felt she was ready for action.

"Vanille, aren't you going to sell your drawing you did for our Life Drawing class?" asked Gabriela. "The one of the lady praying?"

She shook her head. "I donated it to one of the churches by our house. They really loved it, and they'd like to commission me for another if I can find the time."

As the show got underway, many strange people would come up to Vanille and ask her various questions about her drawings. That didn't bother her; she had always been a people person. What did bother her, however, is that for all of the questions these people were asking, they could at least make an offer for one of the drawings they asked about.

Her prayers were answered when a couple approached her section. "Look at this, honey," the man, a sandy blond with glasses wearing a suit, said. "This is just the right size to hang in our living room!"

His wife, a petite blonde wearing a cream sweater, shook her head. "I like this one more," she said, pointing to the drawing of the tree. "Oh, and this one!" she added, pointing to the fairy.

"Those are both too small, Nora," the man disagreed.

"Maybe we can get a different one for our living room," the woman, Nora, pressed her husband. "This fairy drawing fits perfectly with the design I have planned for my powder room."

Deciding to take her chances, Vanille approached the couple. "Hello there," she said. "Perhaps I can be of service? I'm the one who drew all of these."

Nora gave her a warm smile. "My husband and I have just moved home, and we'd like some quality art to decorate. I've fallen in love with this fairy you have here. Since this is an eleven-by-seventeen, would you accept an even hundred for it?"

"An even hundred?" her husband protested.

"It says here it was drawn with Australian charcoal, Bartholomew," Nora said. "Imported materials always make it more expensive- you know that."

Vanille giggled internally. She hadn't imported it, but they didn't need to know that. "I accept your offer," she said. "You can either pay in cash, or see the man over there about credit. Oh, and I almost forgot! Here's my card."  
That was the one thing Vanille remembered from Seminar. Always give them your card.

"Thank you, dear," Nora said, as she began to walk toward the credit man.

Vanille grinned. Her first sale. Just wait until she told everyone back home about this.

* * *

[A/N]: I decided to give you all two chapters to start. Lucky you.  
I've always imagined Vanille to be artsy, so I made that the basis of her story. Artists from all around the world shack up in Pilsen when they move to Chicago; if I had to guess why, it's probably because of the cheap rent. Cheap as Chicago goes, anyway.  
I made Vanille work at Forever 21 because a lot of the girls who work there have high-pitched voices like she does. I swear once I heard a girl who worked at Forever 21 who almost sounded exactly like her.  
The American Academy of Art exists, and there really is a Panera within walking distance. There is a Seminar class taught there (I'm pretty sure) and though I've never been, I'm sure it's just as dreadful as my Seminar class was when I was in college. There's an actual Life Drawing class too.  
As for the names of Vanille's roommates, Dani is a play on "Dani California" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers (if you recall, it's stated she's from Fresno) Arianna is derived from Ariana Grande, and I got the name Gabriela from Days of our Lives.  
Elmwood Park is a suburb of Chicago, with a very large Italian population. The "knows a guy" thing is also a Chicago reference; in Chicago, everybody knows a guy.  
I made Hope's parents show up at the art show because you cannot walk through their house and tell me they are not the type of people who would go art shopping.

P.S. I don't know when I'll be able to update again, but I'll give you this piece of info: Snow is up next.


	3. Chapter 3

There wasn't a Cubs bar on the North Side of Chicago where the bartender didn't know the name "Snow Villiers."

Snow was a security guard at the Aragon Ballroom by day. He loved his job; he'd met very many famous people, and always made a point to tell everyone in the bars about his many encounters. He didn't do it in a bragging way. It was more like "Man, I'm still stoked over the fact that I actually got to meet those guys last night!" Snow was also a huge Cubs fan, and always came in for beers with friends whenever he got tickets to a game, which was eerily often.

Tonight, for example, the Cubs had gotten a win under their belt- the first of the season- and Snow was celebrating with his friends Gadot and Maqui. "Hey, it's Snow!" The bartender, Lebreau, saluted the group.  
She walked over to their table. "How've you been? Who have you met since the last time you were here?"

Snow thought. "A couple of months ago, I met Bruno Mars, and a few nights after that, we were running low on staff, so I had to run maintenance for the Smashing Pumpkins. We haven't had a lot of memorable people recently; mostly, just those teenage boy-bands that no one's gonna remember around this time next year. You know the deal." He folded his arms behind himself. "Gadot got to do a sound check for Soundgarden, though, last week."

"A sound check for Soundgarden," Lebreau repeated. "Is it me, or does that sound like that could be awfully intimidating?"

The group laughed. "It was my first gig doing a sound check, too," added Gadot. "But I must have done a good job, because I still have mine."

Lebreau turned around in time to see a glimpse of her boss staring right at her. "Oh shit, Rosch is looking. I'll get you boys the usual, right?"

They all agreed, and she hurried behind the counter, where a stern talking-to was no doubt waiting for her.

The next day that there was a game, Snow and company went to the official Cubs store, which was conveniently placed right across the street from Wrigley Field, to get some new threads to support their favorite team. This was necessary, because today, the team would be facing off against Chicago's other baseball team, the White Sox.

The White Sox represented the South side of Chicago, and according to every Cubs fan, they were the bane of every Chicagoan's existence. The two teams always played each other at least once a year, and it was this event that had made Snow such an adamant Cubs fan early on in his life:

* * *

_Seven-year-old Snow scurried through his Wrigleyville home excitedly, as he waited for his father to get dressed. "Do you have to go to the bathroom, Snow?" his mother asked him._

_"No, silly head," he reprimanded his mother. "I'm waiting for Dad to come out of there so we can go! I'm excited! I wanna go already! HURRY UP, DAD!"_

_In what had seemed like an instant, Snow's dad emerged from his bedroom, wearing his custom-made Cubs jersey, with the number 19. Snow had never seen one of those before, and his eyes lit up in pure childhood fascination._

_"I want one of those, Dad! Can I get one? Please? I'll be good! I'll stop wearing my beanie indoors like my teacher always tells me to! I promise!"_

_Snow's parents laughed, exchanging a parental look. "You've created a monster, Nick," his mother said._

_"Maybe. But he's my monster." Snow's father, Nick, hoisted Snow onto his shoulders, and the two of them started the three-block walk to Wrigley Field._

_If Snow was excited when he was at home getting ready for the game, being at the game did nothing but fuel his engine. There were adults, some as old as his father- some older than his father, even!- screaming loudly, cheering on the team, wearing those cool jerseys, and eating cool ballpark foods like hot dogs and nachos and apple juice._

_"Uh- that's not apple juice, Snow," his father said, pushing his hand away from the cup of beer he'd swiped from somewhere. "I'll get you a Pepsi if you're thirsty."_

_But as exciting as the game had been (the Cubs had lost) the best part was afterward, when Snow's dad took him to the store and got him a little custom jersey, just like he had asked for. After that, they went to Taco Bell and pigged out._

_It was the best day of his seven-year-old life._

* * *

Since then, Snow and his dad had had a falling out over Snow's impulsive drinking, and they hadn't spoken to each other in six years. He missed going to games with his dad, but on the upside, at least he was going with friends.

Hmm… friends who were acting a lot shiftier than usual today.

"All right guys: what's going on?" he asked them. "I know something is up."

"Aw man!" complained Maqui. "Fine. We got a little surprise for you. We were gonna save it until we got up to our seats, but…"

The two men turned, revealing a man with long, gray hair and a custom jersey. "…Dad?" asked Snow.

"I've missed you, son." And a hug commenced.

"I want to bury the hatchet, Snow. And to show that I mean it…" He pulled a black beanie from his back pocket and put it on his head. "Look at me! I'm wearing a beanie semi-indoors!"

Snow laughed until his sides hurt. "Come on, Dad," he said. "Let's watch us a ball game."

* * *

[A/N]: I bet the Cubs lost that game.  
I'm terribly, terribly sorry this has taken so long. I've been spending all my free time applying for jobs; I need a new computer, and computers don't buy themselves! ;) Not only that, but I'm not the biggest fan of Snow, so I wasn't particularly motivated to do this part. But I did, and therefore, I have made Snow one of the loudest, most obnoxious types of people that live in Chicago: a hardcore Cubs fan.  
Yes, baseball bores me, but I will admit that a father and son going to a baseball game forms a type of bond that can't be explained. I didn't even mean for this chapter to have so many feels. It just came out that way!  
I don't think I stuck any Easter eggs in this one, did I?  
By the way, if you're thinking of reviewing, do you mind telling me if I should include some 13-2 characters in this? The original plan was to keep it to just the six l'cie, but I could do a few more if there's a demand for them.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4: Hope (Lincoln Park)

Hope Estheim rose with the sun.

He had to; before school, he had daily meetings with his chess club, and even before that, there was always the issue of getting to school. His father was a very important man at one of the law firms in the Loop, and his mother worked at a suburban daycare; they were almost always too preoccupied with their jobs to give him a ride to school, so he usually walked it. Today, Hope pulled on a burnt orange button-up shirt over his gray thermal shirt, and wore a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days. The kids at school would definitely argue that Hope was the one kid who made grunge look cool.

Hope attended Lincoln Park High School. Although it was a public school, it was undisputed that it was one of the high schools of the privileged. It offered many courses, both Advanced Placement and not, that some of the students in other high schools had never even heard of, and had state-of-the-art facilities to aid the children in their learning. Many of the students who attended the school were residents of the Lincoln Park neighborhood (hence the name) and were children of very affluent, important people.

As Hope entered the geometry room, his chess coach, Mr. Johnson, noticed his arrival. "You're the first one today, Hope," he said. "As usual."

Hope smiled, proud of himself. "Is that so." He said it not as a question, but more like an acknowledgement that he'd heard the older man's statement.

"It is indeed," agreed his coach. "Hope, I know you're very well aware that this is competition season, correct? This morning, I learned who our first opponent will be: Lakeview High. Now, I know that this is your first year, but let me tell you, their chess team is a force to be reckoned with."

"So I won't be competing this round?" asked Hope.

"Oh, no, quite the contrary. I'm selecting yourself and Yeul for this round. Neither of you have ever faced the school before, so you're less likely to be intimidated by the team. Well, that, and you're both extremely good."

Hope was aware of Yeul; she was a sophomore, a transfer student, and was the very embodiment of demureness. He got the impression that she was very fragile by the way she behaved, and he was sure she wanted to be a poet because of the way she spoke. He found her to be enjoyable though, and was secretly glad that she'd be his partner for the tournament.

When Hope was done with his meeting, he went to his first period class, which was English, and sat where his group of friends usually sat, on the right side of the room (the side that the door was not on). "Where have you been, Hope?" asked his friend Alyssa. "We were saving you a spot at breakfast, and you didn't even show."

"I had a chess meeting. You know that." He scratched his head. How could they forget?

"You'll be at lunch, though, right?" Alyssa continued.

Hope chuckled a bit. "Why wouldn't I be at lunch? I need something to get me through the day, after all."

"Oh, good!" Alyssa said excitedly. "I think we're having gyros today." Softly, so that only Hope could hear her, she added, "I wonder how they're going to mess that up."

The two teens laughed. Truthfully, sometimes Alyssa got on Hope's nerves- she was the preppy type, and was extremely touchy-feely, which was awkward- but it was times like these that Hope remembered why he was her friend. She had her moments, and they were great moments.

Hope and Alyssa had three more friends in this class, by the names of Patrick, Andy, and Miele. Down the hall, in the algebra classroom, their friend Elida was sitting with five more of their friends, by the names of Pete, Billy, Joe, Jennifer, and Maria. They all had the same lunch period, as well as the same last period, which was an elective about literature, where they discussed the philosophies behind popular books and short stories.

"Hey, Ms. Roberts?" asked Alyssa, raising her hand. "I have a question. You remember when we read the first book in the 'Cirque du Freak' series, right?"

"Yes, Alyssa," she agreed. "Was there something you still don't understand about the series?" They were on Book 7.

"Well… yeah." She thought for a second, then continued. "There was a part, in the beginning where Darren says he loves spiders, but his parents hated them, and they had to put up with it, more or less, right? Well, why didn't they just build him a greenhouse in the backyard so he could keep all his spiders there?"

"That sounds like it would have been a good idea," agreed Hope. "And it could have came with a lock and key, so he could lock it every night and not have to worry about them escaping." He chuckled a little. "You could say the whole series could've been avoided."

More and more of the students agreed with that. "I, um, don't think they could have afforded that," their teacher finally said. "They weren't very rich."

"But a greenhouse couldn't cost that much, right?" asked Andy. "I'm sure if I asked my dad for a greenhouse, he would call someone to come and make one."

Ms. Roberts rubbed her temples. She'd certainly gotten herself into a tight spot.

When school was over, the large group of friends headed to their lockers. "Hey, Hope, look at this," Patrick said, pulling a box out of his locker. "It's my camera for my photography class. Professional-grade, brand new, and red. Pretty cool, huh?"

"It is cool," agreed Elida, who was reasonably close. "Wow, you should use it at the talent show, Patrick. I'm going to be performing, and you could get some really good pictures for the blog we run. Right, Hope?"

Hope nodded. "I want one," he said simply.

He practically ran home, where his father was waiting for him in his office. "Dad!" Hope said. "I want a professional camera."

Bartholomew looked confused. "Why do you want a camera, Hope? I didn't even know you were interested in photography."

"Of course I am," Hope said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Photography is cool, Dad. Everyone knows that. I could walk around the neighborhood and take some really nice pictures and post them on the blog that I run with my friends. And Patrick already said he'd teach me how to use it!"

"All right then. When your mother gets home with the car, we can go to the photography store in the Loop and see what we can find."

Hope was happy. He always got what he wanted, and didn't even have to say "please." He loved his life.

* * *

[A/N]: Spoiled rich kid Hope for the win! After walking through his house in the game, I knew Lincoln Park would be a great fit for him. For those of you that may not know this, a current, high-quality professional camera can run you anywhere from 400 to 800 bucks, and that's before the ridiculous Chicago sales tax (which actually seems to be decreasing these days, yay!) That's a lot of money to be spending on a fourteen-year-old that's likely to be going through a phase.  
Cirque du Freak, I loved you, I had to poke a little fun at you in this.  
Oh Maker there are so many Chicago references in this that it's making me dizzy. Essentially, Hope's friends: Patrick, Andy, Joe, and Pete= Fall Out Boy, which was formed in Wilmette (a suburb) Jennifer= Jennifer Hudson, Maria= the former WWE Diva, and Billy= Billy Corgan. Also keep in mind that "The Loop" is the name of the downtown area. Also, I'm not sure how, but my old geometry teacher Mr. Johnson snuck in here, who was the chess club coach at my school.  
Big, huge, catastrophically-sized thanks to Fanfiction Bard, Shadow, and darkness-chiara-of-feels for reviewing. I have decided that the characters will in fact meet, but I can't say if it'll be related to the canon plot yet. I haven't gotten that far. And, after I'm done with the original six, I will be giving Noel and Caius their own chapters as well (yay).  
Well, that's it. See you next chapter! If I remember correctly, it's Lightning.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5: Lightning (Lakeview)

Lightning Farron's life wasn't easy, but she wouldn't change it for the world.

Every morning, she rose with the sun, took a cold shower (she preferred cold showers in the morning because she claimed they woke her up, and made her coffee that much more refreshing) and cooked breakfast for everyone that lived with her. In addition to herself, there was her husband Noctis, and her younger sister Serah. She also had a young son with Noctis, but he was much too young to need actual food in the morning, not to mention he was usually asleep when everyone else was awake in the morning.

"Lightning," Serah sort of whined as she sat at the small table in the kitchen. "You didn't sign my permission slip last night. I left it on your nightstand, like you asked me to."

"Oh." Lightning only vaguely remembered the event happening. "I don't think I'll have enough time before I leave to do it. You can ask Noctis." She then did a double-take, and said, "Wait a second. Serah, you're eighteen years old now. That's a legal adult; sign your own paper."

"Oh, yeah." Serah's birthday was barely a week ago, and she frequently forgot that she was technically an adult now. As she penned her signature on the appropriate line, Serah continued, "By the way, Lightning, I got some pretty good news last night…"

"Hm?" she let on, whisking the mixture of eggs she'd made.

Serah grinned. "I got a part-time job at Starbucks."

Lightning smiled a little, but immediately went into mother mode. "Now, Serah, I don't want this interfering with your schoolwork…"

"It won't!" Serah quickly interrupted. "It's the one over on Paulina and Diversey, so I can walk over there and back. I've already talked about it with my supervisor; if I have to work on a school day, absolutely no more than four hours, or else I'm out of there, no questions asked."

Now Lightning couldn't help but smile fully. She'd taught her sister well. "I'm proud of you, Serah," she said softly. "As a matter of fact… since we didn't get to celebrate your birthday last week, I think you've earned a little surprise."

"A surprise?!" Serah was practically bursting at her seams with excitement.

It was then that Noctis emerged from the bedroom that he and Lightning shared. "What's with all the noise out here?" he asked. "You'll wake Mumford."

"I got a part-time job," Serah told him excitedly. "And as a reward for being so responsible-slash-as a late birthday present, Lightning said she has a surprise for me!"

Lightning nodded slightly, confirming everything her sister had said. "You don't have to worry about dropping her off at school," she added. "Drop her off with me."

Noctis worked a very easygoing job as an assistant interior designer for new businesses in the Lakeview area. He was the one in charge of the car: every day he'd start by dropping Serah off at school, then Lightning at work, and then he'd take his son along with him to work. The Caelum father-son duo was definitely a favorite at the office.

Lightning was a Chicago police officer, and had been ever since she was eligible at eighteen. Her father had been an officer, too, and Lightning had always looked up to him as a young girl. When she was twelve, and Serah was just nine, he was gunned down in a shootout in the South Shore neighborhood. When Lightning's mother had died six years later of a terminal illness, the very first thing she did was bought a house in one of the more safer neighborhoods of the city- the South Loop- and the very second thing she did was enter the police academy.

In fact, it was only fairly recently that Lightning had learned to slow down and enjoy life, because she had been so busy making sure Serah didn't have a life that was different from anyone else's just because she was an orphan. And, just as soon as she started enjoying life, that's when she'd met Noctis, who was the son of a very important realtor in the city. They got married quickly, and Noctis moved the Farron sisters to his spacious house in Lakeview. Now, with Serah in a good school and with their son and with everything really, Lightning could say she was content with her life. Content, but never satisfied. As she always would say, satisfaction was something that came when one had no intention of trying to improve… which she still had.

"No school?" Serah asked. "Woo-" She stopped, remembering Noctis' gentle scolding about being loud. She whispered, "Woohoo."

"Hold your horses, missy," Lightning said, pointing a cautionary finger at her. "You're still going to school. As a matter of fact, get upstairs and put on your uniform."

Serah pouted, but did as she was told.

Later, the small family piled into their car, a black Mitsubishi Lancer, and set off. Lightning's station wasn't a far drive from the house, and she and Serah bid the boys goodbye as they entered.

"Lightning!" Her co-worker, Officer Cid Raines greeted her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

As stoically as ever, Lightning replied simply, "I was on maternity leave. I've been back for about a month now, but your vacation overlapped with it."

"Oh, right!" he said, his memory jogged. "How is little Mumford doing, anyway?"

Lightning didn't look like she wanted to answer, so Serah took this rare chance to brag about her little nephew. "He's the cutest!" she gushed. "He's gotten to the age where he can bend and put his little toes into his mouth, and it is just the cutest thing ever. And his hair is growing in really well; it's really dark, just like Noctis', but he has blue eyes like all of us Farrons…"

"Serah." Lightning glared at her, and she immediately stopped. "My sister and I have a bit of business to attend to, Officer Raines."

"Oh, of course. It was nice seeing you again, Serah. Stay out of trouble; after all, you're kind of in the wrong place for that, anyway!" He winked.

Serah giggled as she and Lightning walked away. Lightning was always cold like that toward Cid, because they had been rivals since their days in the police academy. But Serah liked his sense of humor, and often found herself wishing that her sister would be just a little nicer to the guy. He wasn't a bad person, anyway.

As Lightning spoke with her lieutenant privately, Serah got a text from her friend Nicole. It read: "Where are you? Tegan and I waited by the library!"

Serah gasped, realizing she should've told her friends not to wait for her. She replied: "I'll be there soon. I'm at the station with Sis."

A few minutes later she got the reply: "Lol, what did they get you for?"

Serah laughed at her friend's sense of humor; they'd always joked about how Serah would be the first of them to end up at a police station.

When Lightning emerged from the lieutenant's office, the lieutenant himself, Amodar, came out as well. "Happy birthday, Serah," he said.

"Thank you," she replied politely.

"Well," he continued, "we don't usually do this, but Officer Farron has convinced me that you're a very well-behaved girl, so, I'd like to provide you with the keys to your sister's police car."

"You're driving yourself to school in it," added Lightning.

Serah gasped. "That is so… weird and cool at the same time!" she said excitedly. "Can we stop for breakfast first? I know I ate at home, but I'm hungry again. Oh, and I'm sure the car has to be washed, so I'll just go ahead and take care of that…"

Lightning smiled. She was confident that her sister loved her gift.

_  
[A/N]: Look who's back! I must apologize for the whole four-month-hiatus-with-no-warning thing.  
I want to thank everyone who reviewed, because it helped to know that people are enjoying this story. Honestly, if no one had reviewed, I probably would've forgotten about this story. So thanks! You can also see that I've implemented the lovely guest's idea of having Lightning and Noctis be married, but I took down their son's age because I was trying to keep everyone at (or close to) their canon age, and Lightning certainly doesn't strike me as the type to have a son at 16.  
Yes, they named their son Mumford. Yes, that is a reference to Mumford and Sons. Mumford Caelum. *giggles* If I ever met someone with that name, I'd probably marry them. That is a great name.  
Lightning kept her last name after the marriage. You can totally see her doing that, am I right?  
Serah's friends' names: Nicole is after the Smashing Pumpkins' bassist, and Tegan was because she's Serah's friend. Tegan and Serah, like Tegan and Sara… get it? *cries because that was so corny* I'm sorry.  
If anyone has any ideas for Fang, be sure to throw them at me, because her section in the outline is completely blank. I never even assigned her a neighborhood (although I had one in mind, which was Humboldt Park).  
Fang is next, by the way. But you already guessed that didn't you.  
See ya, and here's to the end of my four-month hiatus!

Disclaimer: Of course, you know by now that I don't own FFXIII. I think you just like to hear me say it.


End file.
